


The Tetris Effect

by Starkvenger



Series: Half-Life VR But The AI Have Fanfiction [2]
Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Black Mesa Sweet Voice, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Gordan Freeman Is the Player, Gordan Has A Cat, Half-Life VR But the AI is Self-Aware, How is that not a tag on here yet, Inspired by Half-Life VR But the AI is Self-Aware, M/M, Memory Related, Multi, Not Beta Read We Die Like Coomer Clones, Post-Game(s), Pyromania, Streamer Gordan Freeman, Survivor Guilt, The Science Team is Insane, Twitch Slang, YouTube, cause RPF makes me kinda uncomfortable but he's basically Wayne so, cause why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26070595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkvenger/pseuds/Starkvenger
Summary: Gordon may have finished the game, but everything he experienced was still fresh in his mind, still heavy on his shoulders.So heavy in fact, that he couldn't help but be reminded of the game- and by proxy the Science Team- in everything he saw.Maybe he could blame the Tetris Effect?Also, I'm really sorry they won't separate the tags already Half-Life fans. Really, I am.
Relationships: Benrey & Gordon Freeman, Bubby & Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Dr. Coomer & Gordon Freeman, Gordan Freeman & The Science Team, Tommy Coolatta & Gordon Freeman
Series: Half-Life VR But The AI Have Fanfiction [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892632
Comments: 21
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha guess who has a new hyper-fixation...

\- - -

Gordon felt electricity course through his body, causing him to jitter and jolt before a sudden weight pressing against his forehead caused him to bring his hand up to it.

Instead of hitting his skin, he found his fingers touching cold, thick plastic. His heart skipped a beat as his gripped onto the plastic tightly, as if he were to let it go it would simply vanish again. The man swallowed thickly, shutting his eyes tightly as he pulled the plastic upwards and yanked it off his face. 

His eyelids fluttered open, vision staring at a dark computer monitor hooked up to a whirring tower. He swallowed as he managed to pull the VR headset fully off his head, allowing some of his curly, chestnut-colored hair to fall into his face. Gordon felt like he was stuck in place, the controllers in his hands ( _hands_ , with an S, he had two, HE HAD TWO HANDS AGAIN-) hanging loosely from his wrists as the cord kept them suspended in the air.

He felt a chill run up his spine as he dropped the headset onto the carpeted floor with a thunk and fell backward, landing on his ass as he stared wide-eyed at the computer in front of him. What- what just happened? He blinked slowly, trying to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest as he glanced down at his hands.

He flexed his fingers, wiggling them individually from one another- a novel idea, but something he hadn't been able to do with the polygonal model he'd been thrust into when he started up the game however long ago. He ran a hand through his tangled mess of hair, letting out a shaky breath as he sat on the floor.

Wait, how long _had_ it been?

Gordon's legs felt like jelly, he noticed, as he tried to stand. _Thank God_ he didn't have to deal with the HEV suit anymore- it'd been heavy while he was in the game (and shit, wasn't THAT still a wild thought) but, for some reason, looking down at the mismatched socks on his feet, the black sweatpants around his waist, the Twitch shirt around his chest- it felt wrong. 

A soft shuffling from behind him made him tense and throw his right arm out defensively, ready to blow whatever was lurking behind him to smithereens. He blinked, realizing his hand was just that- his hand. Sure, there was a jagged, marred scar encircling his lower arm, between his wrist and his elbow, but there was no minigun. Gordon swallowed thickly, letting out a shaky, trembling breath as he focused his attention towards whatever had made the sound.

The short-haired tabby cat laying against his pillow lifted its head and yawned, sitting up and staring at him before meowing.

How the hell had he forgotten he had a cat? "Cinnabar..." he breathed, clambering up from the floor and shuffling towards the bed on his knees. Gordon sat back slightly on his legs and reached out a hand to pet the tabby cat, warmth coiling in his core as the animal began to purr. "You..." he furrowed his brow as he scratched behind the cat's ear. "You were right there when I started the game- Chat was going crazy about you," he said slowly.

He paused in his actions and Cinnabar butted her head against his hand, causing him to chuckle. "Good cat," he said, standing up and turning his attention back towards his computer. He'd spent _days_ in that hellscape...how long had it been out here?

Gordon came closer to the desk his computer sat on, grabbing the chair he'd moved out of the way in order to play VR properly and moving it back where it belonged before he plopped down on it. It felt nice to sit on something that wasn't the concrete floor or mildew-ridden couches- he took a moment to savor the plush material before grabbing his mouse and minimizing the game window. 

He wasn't sure about closing it _just_ yet...Dr. Coomer's last message to him was still too fresh in his mind, still echoing in his ears in a way. He didn't know what would happen to the science team and Benrey (because there was no way in Hell that freak was dead, no sir- and sure, maybe it would be better to delete him but _that wasn't the point right now)_ and didn't want to risk sending them into some void or resetting them or something. 

He opened up Twitch and looked for his latest stream, scrolling through the page in search of it. There had been a point where all input from the chat just vanished, the point when he'd realized he couldn't take the headset off- that it. was gone entirely and he was stuck in this low-poly world until he finished the game. 

He managed to find it, surprised to see that it was only 30 minutes long. It was crazy, considering his usual streams lasted _way_ longer than that, but considering the circumstances...

Gordon clicked on the video and scrolled to the last 5 minutes. He found himself watching footage of himself yelling at Benrey and telling him to get out of the testing chamber. _'Simpler times,'_ he thought, shaking his head as Tommy started yelling from the window along with Coomer and Bubby, telling him not to mess up the test, to go slow- the whole molasses analogy.

A small smile graced his face upon hearing their voices again. It was a wonder both how much and how little these guys had changed over the course of the game. How many hours had they spent traversing that facility? How many people had they killed? How many times had they sat in a circle and just talked and everything and nothing, about how badly they all wanted to leave that wretched place?

Gordon had been the only one that had, he supposed. 

The man sighed and watched himself get angry with Benrey and put his hands on- whatever that thing had been that he'd been meant to push into the radioactive core. Benrey kept talking to him in that aggravating, monotone voice, telling him to stop touching things and not to steal anything, and it made Gordon, somehow, feel nostalgic.

He watched his hands push the thing in and the AI's started going crazy. Bubby was swearing and Tommy seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, Dr. Coomer was yelling about his passport, lights were flickering and glowing- he felt his heart skip a beat. He remembered this. This was when everything went to Hell in a handbasket. The screen flickered as the lights overwhelmed the video before cutting to black. 

He glanced at chat, and of course, they were confused. Some were talking about the AI's, parroting back what they'd been saying, while others were yelling about his passport and still others were worried. The video stayed black and the comments slowly devolved from parroting and banter to concern and confusion. 

_**'Where's Gordon?'** _

_**'Is this some kind of prank?'** _

_**'Gordo come back'** _

_**'** _ **🦐🦐** **🦐🦐🦐🦐** **🦐🦐** _**'** _

_**Is something wrong w the stream or is it just me'** _

_**'BLACK SCREEN OF DEATH'** _

_**'shit graphics'** _

_**'wheres gordon?** _ **😰😰** _ **'** _

_**'Cant tell if this is real or just part of the plot...'** _

_**'GORDON!!!'** _

_**'ok but how ironic he chooses to play a game where he shares the same name as the protag...'** _

_**'Is he ded?'** _

_**'WTF is going on?'** _

_**'Gordon? 👀'** _

_**'i think he's dead'** _

_**'f in the chat for gordo'** _

_**'guys, I think something might actually be wrong-'**_

"Shit..." he muttered, chewing on his cheek when the stream was suddenly cut off. He glanced at the recording date before glancing at the clock in the bottom right corner of his screen. The video was from yesterday. Well, considering it was currently 2 am, it was. The stream had cut out seven hours ago. While the passage of time may have been hard to recognize while in the game, he knew he'd spent much longer than seven _hours_ in that place.

"Felt more like a week..." he breathed, sitting back in his chair and staring at the page. He furrowed his brow at a thought ad sat up slightly, doing some mental math. "A week..." he muttered, glancing at the time. "For every day I spent in there... it must have been an hour out here."

A sudden weight pushing against his leg caused the man to glance down and find Cinnabar rubbing against his pant leg. He grinned down at her and raised an eyebrow. "What do you want, little miss?" he asked, reaching down to pick up the cat and put her in his lap. The man started petting her slowly, running his fingers through her ginger-colored fur and he tried to process everything. 

Gordon glanced towards the discarded headset on the ground and swallowed thickly, standing up with Cinnabar in his arms and setting her down on his bed before reaching down and picking up the headset. He turned it around in his hands, looking at the front of the device where he'd slapped a large twitch decal on the front. He bit down on the corner of his lip in thought- he wondered if the game was still running for the Science Team. 

Sure, he'd been sent to an inky void once it had ended, but they were AI's- maybe they had a place to go that the player character didn't. A flash of images flickering through his mind, causing him to tighten his grip on the headset out of fear. The spray of bullets echoed in his ears, the adrenaline of running and ducking for cover in order to avoid a grenade, the laughter and berating of Dr. Coomer, Tommy, Benry and Bubby when he told them about his streaming job. 

He set the headset down on the desk. He couldn't do this right now. His room was already dark, save for the low light coming from his monitor and the fairy lights his chat had _insisted_ he hang up where they could see and program to be orange in honor of the game. He might as well sleep- it was late afterall.

Gordon sighed as he pulled off his shirt, tossing it towards the clothes hamper in the corner of the room and rolling his eyes when he missed. He half expected to hear a snide comment from Bubby about his aim and felt his mouth turn upwards in preparation- only to remember where he was. 

"Right..." he muttered, taking a seat down on the edge of the bed. "No science team..." Cinnabar meowed and crawled into his lap, and he grinned softly down at her. "Such a pretty little girl, huh?" he cooed, picking the animal up as he laid back and setting her down on his bare chest. "Tomorrow's another day..." he breathed, closing his eyes as he started stroking the cat gently. 

_"...another dollar!"_ he could almost hear Dr. Coomer say. 

\- - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Gordon is the player, but he's not Gordon FREEMAN. His name just also happens to be Gordon- that was one of the main reasons he decided to play the game again after so long.
> 
> Also, no, I DON'T know how Twitch works. I am a man of the youtubes. Thank you for asking.
> 
> ALSO ALSO, sorry if anyone's OOC or if I get stuff wrong- I try to research my fics fairly well, but I am not about to play through Half-Life to get every little detail correct about this. I will look at and scan over lore, though. From both fandoms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gordo's- he's losin' his marbles, guys. Someone, uhh, someone pick 'em up. 'Needs those....marbles.

\- - -

Gordon woke up with a splitting headache. The sunlight streaming through his window made him groan and wish he'd thought to close the curtains last night as he rolled over in bed and buried his face in the pillows. A light shuffling followed by a sudden pressure on his back told him Cinnabar was now laying on top of him, and while normally that'd mean he was stuck there by cat law, even he knew when it was time to get up and actually get shit done.

"Sorry sweetheart," he mumbled into his pillows as he lifted himself up slowly, jostling the cat and causing her to leap off of him and onto the floor. He glanced towards her and she looked at him before meowing and taking off out of the room and probably towards her food bowl. Gordon sat up and shook his head at the animal, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning. 

"Right then," he breathed, running his hands over his stubble-covered face and standing up in one fluid motion. "Morning ritual, lets go," he muttered to himself, opening his drawer and rummaging through it.

_'Ooh, Feetman got- got some uhh, shitty clothes. Got, baby shitty- shit clothes, Feetman?'_ he heard the echoed, monotone voice of Benrey ring out in his ears, making him tense and pause in his movements. 

He turned his head to look around the room, brow furrowed in confusion as he set his jaw. There was no one there...his computer was off, and the headset was unplugged. Gordon shook his head at the thought- wasn't that a thing a lot of people experienced after playing a video game for too long?

Hearing things or seeing things related to the game- yeah, yeah that _had_ to be a thing. Something to do with Tetris or something. 

Gordon sighed and grabbed some jeans and a shirt from his dresser before closing the drawers and heading towards the bathroom. He paused in the doorway to his room, giving the computer another uneasy glance. Yeah, Benrey was weird and he could do some mega-weird shit, but... but he couldn't escape the game, right?

Cinnabar suddenly rubbing against his legs pulled him back into reality. "Be patient, little miss, I gotta take a shower first, then I'll feed you," he said, the computer all but forgotten as he made his way towards the bathroom again. An absent scratch at his chest with his right hand drew his attention back towards the scar that encircled his arm.

By all logic, it shouldn't have been there, but then again by all logic, he shouldn't have been sucked into a game from the 90's with self-aware AI either. Gordon wrung his other hand around the scar, chewing on the inside of his cheek at the needles it sent through his skin. It all had felt so real...what if something worse had happened? Was that entire experience a 'You die in the game, you die in real life' kind of situation and he just got _lucky?_

Another glance down at his arm told him that maybe lucky wasn't the right word for it.

One long shower later and Gordon was pulling a light gray shirt over his chest before taking a brush to his thick head of curls. Attempting to tame the mane was something he'd always struggled with, but hey- he vibed with the look, so who cared if it was a little more work? He pulled the hair back into a fluffy ponytail before leaving the bathroom and hoofing it down the stairs. 

Cinnabar was waiting for him, laying beside her food bowl and acting as if she'd never been fed before in her entire life. "Alright, drama queen, no need to be like that," he said as he picked up her food bowl and brought it to the closet. The cat followed closely behind, meowing up at him as he took a scoop of her food from the bag and poured it into the bowl before bringing it back and setting it down on the pet carpet for her to attack.

_"Ah, the wonder of pet ownership,"_ he could almost hear Dr. Coomer say in that cheerful voice of his. He shook the thoughts from his head- that game really messed with him. First Benrey this morning and now Dr. Coomer? He was slipping.

Speaking of slipping...

Gordon rubbed at the back of his neck as he opened the fridge, grimacing at the sight of it being practically empty. "Greeaaaattt...." he muttered, closing the door with a sigh before glancing out the kitchen window. Right- it was December, which meant icy sidewalks and slushy, snow-covered mud for him to walk through. What day was it again? It'd been a while since he really kept up with holidays, even major ones like Christmas and Hanukkah.

Sure, he could take a wild guess and say that because people still had Christmas lights adorning their houses it was before that particular holiday, but he knew some people that kept those things up until March, so...

The man sighed. Either way, he'd have to get dressed and go out into the cold if he wanted anything more than a grilled cheese sandwich. "Alright sweetness, I gotta go out," he said, mustering up the willpower to actually go through with this as he sat down on the floor and tugged on some sneakers. Sure, they weren't the best things to wear out into the cold, but his boots weren't comfortable and he'd spent _more_ than enough time being uncomfortable already. 

Cinnabar didn't look up from her bowl, still happily munching away as Gordon stood back up. He shook his head and grabbed his coat off the rack, shrugging it on before grabbing his keys. "Wait, where's my phone?" he muttered aloud, patting his jean pockets with a furrowed brow. 

_'Heh, dumb- uhh, dumb idiot can't keep track of his- uhh, his...phone, thing,'_ Benrey's monotone voice echoed in his mind. This might get annoying, he thought as he trudged up the stairs to find his phone. He grabbed it from his dresser, having to move a stray shirt out of the way and glancing down at the screen to find multiple notifications from Twitter staring him in the face. 

Right- he'd forgotten that his stream ended kind of abruptly and that people might be worried about him. He pocketed the device with a shake of his head- he could worry about that later, right now he really needed to get groceries. Coming back down the stairs, Gordon grabbed a beanie and pulled it over his ears before opening the front door and waving goodbye to Cinnabar.

\- - -

As he's driving down the road in his car, Gordon can't help but catch sight of a boy, clad in puffy winter wear, jumping around in the snow and laughing as his father watched from the front porch. He paused at a stop sign, watching the boy laugh as he was suddenly being chased through the front yard by his dog. He couldn't help but be reminded of a certain massive barking .jpeg.

_'Sunkist is- is the perfect dog, Mister Freeman! I made- I made her myself!'_ Tommy's voice came to mind. _'Much- m-much better than that dog!'_ Gordon couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. That's definitely what Tommy would think, he thought as he started to move again. 

Soon enough, the man pulled into the large parking lot of a grocery store and clambered out of his little car- _'What a pathetic excuse for a car,'_ Bubby he could hear Bubby grouse. He sighed and made his way toward the door, locking the car behind him and trying to shake the Science team from his mind.

How long was this Tetris effect thing supposed to last? Cause it sure as Hell wasn't fading. If anything, these moments were becoming more frequent. He'd gotten good at ignoring the Science Team while in-game, but this- this was kinda weird. The only thing he had going for him was that they weren't impeding of his life too much _. Yet._

He really hoped it wouldn't come to that. 

The bell dinged as Gordon walked through the sliding doors, grabbing a cart and setting off down a random aisle. The sound of heavy, familiar footsteps behind him caused the brunet to glance backward, instinctually opening his mouth to tell a member of the team to quiet their feet, only to find no one behind him. He was alone in the cereal aisle, something that caused him to rub at his temple.

He continued his trek through the supermarket, absently adding things to his cart he either knew he needed or was pretty sure he needed. He came to the soda aisle and stopped in his tracks, letting out a shaky breath at the sight of colorful cardboard boxes lining the shelves. A small, bittersweet smile graced his face as he passed the sugary drinks by, reaching instead for some vitamin water.

_"Booooooo Feetman drinks- drinks weird, uhh, shit soda water. Fruit water for the...uhhh...the fruit-sucker,"_ he could hear Benrey's taunts ringing in his head, almost like he was right behind him. He knew he wasn't, none of them were actually there- it was all just his head tricking him into thinking they were. Just ignore it and move on, Gordon. Another boo from Benrey in the back of his mind, but he ignored him, turning the cart and heading down another aisle.

_'Now Benrey, we can't all have good taste. Let Gordon enjoy his strange fruit water in peace,'_ he could almost hear Coomer chiding the younger man gently, defending Gordon and still somehow finding a way to insult him.

_'Well, he has shit taste,'_ he could imagine Bubby piping up, adding his own opinion to the mix.

_'I think Mr. Freeman's taste in soda isn't too bad!'_ Tommy would add.

Gordon leaned against the handlebar on his cart, shaking his head. "You guys are gonna be the death of me..." he muttered to himself with a tired, familiar grin, only to feel a weird buzz in the back of his skull- like someone was suddenly staring right through him. He furrowed his brow and glanced around- once again, he was alone in the aisle. He swallowed thickly and brought a hand up to his head, and the buzzing started to ease back.

_'Wha?'_ he heard Benrey's iconic puzzlement.

Gordon brought his things to self check out and started scanning them, trying to ignore the flurry of whispers floating in and out of his mind that, for some reason, he couldn't make sense of. He scanned a can of peaches and put them into a bag, moving to grab another item from his cart before a sudden hand on his shoulder spooked him.

"Hello, Gordon!" a cheerful voice came from behind him, causing the man to yelp and throw out his right arm defensively as he stared wide-eyed. at whoever the voice belonged to. He found himself staring at an older man with salt and pepper colored hair, thick-rimmed glasses and a polka-dot bowtie around his neck. "Whoa there, Gordon- it's just me. Are you alright?" the man- his brain supplied him with a name, James, and an occupation- his former manager before he started streaming full-time.

"I- I-" he stammered, swallowing thickly before realizing his arm was still outstretched. He dropped it and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Yeah, uh, sorry, James. I just- just jumpy, I guess," he replied, getting a worried look from the man.

"You should _probably_ get more sleep, Gordon. Too many late nights streaming, huh?" he asked with a chuckle, getting a confused grin from the man.

"Wait, how did you-"

"My daughter's a big fan of yours," James replied easily before his phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. "Oh- sorry, Gordon, I have an issue to deal with," he said, turning on his heel and heading likely towards the manager's office. There was no telling what could be going on that he needed to deal with.

"Christ..." he breathed, glancing around to find the people whose eyes he'd known had been on him when he jumped had gone back to tagging and bagging their own groceries. 

_'Major cringe, Feetman. Cant- can't handle a little, uhh, a little sneaky sneak surpris-'_ He heard Benrey's voice float through his head, only to be suddenly silenced. He furrowed his brow at that but ignored it- things were already too tense and he just wanted to get home and relax already. 

_'Shut up, you babbling buffoon,'_ he heard Bubby comment, though his tone was hushed, like he was trying to keep quiet and hide from something. Which- yeah, that made even less sense than the whole 'hearing video game voices in your head' thing already did. He did his best to ignore this weird feeling crawling up his spine, the feeling that told him he was missing something- and loaded up his groceries into his car.

Getting home had him struggle to pull his bags out of the car without slipping on the ice, which he felt would have gotten him a clipped remark from Bubby- but for some reason, his mind wasn't supplying him with anything the man would say. It had been weirdly quiet the entire drive home, now that he thought about it, even after seeing the twinkling Christmas lights hanging from houses and making comment, aloud, to himself, that it reminded him of the Black Mesa Sweet Voice **(TM)**.

Well, he had wanted that whole thing to stop, right?

But this- this felt weird. It felt like something- or some _one_ was holding their breath, holding back, making sure that nothing got out. It made Gordon feel like he wasn't alone in his house and it was pretty unnerving. 

He walked through the door with his bags in tow and set them on the counter, smiling at the sound of light pitter-pattering paws running towards him. He kneeled down to pick Cinnabar up and scratch behind her ears before setting her on the counter and putting groceries away. 

As he unloaded some veggies, he couldn't help but make a comment to himself- or was it to Cinnabar?

"Better than just soda and microwave lasagna, huh?" he said, glancing towards the Cat to find her bathing herself and ignoring him. The sound of bark- not just any bark, no, a bark he'd heard played on repeat, a bark that he knew for a fact was a stock sound, rang out loud and clear through his mind, causing him to bring a hand up to his head. 

_'Sunkist, no! We gotta be quiet!'_ he could hear Tommy say, and could almost picture him fumbling over himself and attempting to get the golden retriever .jpeg to calm down. The words confused him slightly, but it got him thinking.

"I wonder how Sunkist would react to you, girl. I mean, can the perfect dog resist a feline such as yourself?" he asked teasingly, only to have the sudden, overwhelming feeling of betrayal course through him.

_'Mr. Freeman, Sunkist is perfect!! She would never hurt a kitty cat!!'_ he could hear Tommy say almost angrily, shocked that Gordon could even bring up such a notion, only to suddenly. hear a chorus of shushing rip through his mind like paper. 

"Wait..." he breathed, furrowing his brow in confusion as he gripped the counter. He shook his head at the thought, a breathy laugh escaping him as he swallowed thickly. No, this- this wasn't...this _couldn't_ be.

His heart skipped a beat. Was he really going down this train of thought?

"You're...you're not just thoughts in my head...are you..." he said aloud, staring blankly at a point on the wall. There were a few moments of tense silence, moments that felt like they would stretch on into infinity. Gordon ran a hand through his curly hair slowly. 

There was a sigh.

_'No, Gordon, I'm afraid we're not.'_

\- - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at writing Benrey's voice and I'm sorry for that. Scorpy I love you but HHHNNNGGGHHHHH Benrey's hard to write for me.
> 
> Anywho, please gimme some feedback on whatcha think- IDK if I should continue this or not. I want to, but IDK yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me Half-Life fans. But this concept is just too interesting for me to leave alone.


End file.
